


My True Love Gave to Me

by Itsjez



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: F/M, Inspired by A Christmas Carol, M/M, Multi, Tagged by chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-09 08:45:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 13,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5532995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itsjez/pseuds/Itsjez
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of twelve linear ficlets following Anduin Wrynn through parts of his life. Inspired by the 'Twelve Days of Christmas' carol.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. On the First Day of Christmas...

**Author's Note:**

> Varian has a nightmare, but it might be more than it seems.
> 
> Chapter Warnings: Fire/City Burning, Murder/Death, Nightmares

He ran through the city as it burned, his eyes fearful, his heart pounding. His small legs could barely move him fast enough and he could feel the heat rising all around him. He did not attempt to wipe away the tears that fell down his cheeks, even as he called out for someone, anyone, to help him. But the city was empty, save for the fire.

Varian slowed his run to a walk, then collapsed to the stone ground. He cried out, his tiny body shivering despite the ruin around him. There was nothing left now. His father was dead, murdered by that….monster.

His hands clenched and Varian hit the ground hard. He did not feel the pain even as he picked himself up. He may only be thirteen, but he knew he was king now. He had to get out of this city. Crying wouldn’t help anyone.

The fire was raging larger now, faster and higher. Varian brought up his shirt to cover his face. If he could get to the docks...maybe someone could help him get out of the city. Maybe it would be okay.

Despite his pain, the young king ran, eyes ever watchful of the world burning around him. Within minutes, he could see the water. He could see a boat. A way out.

But then, stepping out from the inferno, she came.

Garona’s eyes were that blood-red that all the orcs had been and Varian stopped as he looked up in fear. He had no way to defend himself, no way to avoid being killed...murdered like his father was.

He wouldn’t cry. Even if he died, he wouldn’t cry.

Garona approached, her daggers dripping with his father’s blood, an evil smirk distorting her usually kind face. Varian stood firm.

He wouldn’t cry.

Not again.

All at once, a bird came, meeting the dagger as it swung down towards Varian. Now, he did avert his eyes, the blood splattering across his face. When he turned back, she was gone, replaced by the broken body of the bird.

The tears came before he could stop them, Varian falling to his knees even as he reached out to the dying creature. He tried to hush it, tried to soothe the quiet noises it made. His burned fingers reached out to stroke the dull brown feathers that covered its body. He brushed away the blood, uncovering the black and white patterns that surrounded its head. Even though he had seen several of these birds, hunted them himself, he could not suppress the overwhelming pain that filled his heart. Varian stared into it’s sad eyes, watching as the light faded from them.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, but it was soft, encouraging. Turning, he met the blue eyes of a much older man. His long blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail and he wore the clothes of a high ranking priest. To Varian, it seemed as if he was surrounded by a shining golden light that bettered everything it touched.

The man smiled at Varian, ruffling the boy’s hair. Not saying a word, the stranger beckoned for the bird. Varian hesitated, but he handed it over.

Carefully, the priest sat down, the bird resting on his white robes. Varian watched as the man summoned a brightness. He watched as the Light danced across the man’s fingertips and moved to surround the bird. His own eyes grew as the gold moved to surround him as well. He looked to the smiling man, at the golden hair, the kind smile, and the bird that sat on the man’s shoulder, happily chirping as if it had no care.

_It’s okay to cry._

Varian jolted up, panting heavy. He felt a new hand, just as soft as the one from his dream. Turning, he made a grab, but caught himself just as he caught the bright eyes of his beautiful wife.

“Varian?” Tiffin called quietly, reaching out to touch his face. “Shhh, it was just a dream my dear. Just a nightmare. It’s over now.”

He stumbled, reaching out for her, pulling her into his chest, even as he buried his face into her neck. Tiffin, for her part, stroked his hair, soothing him, offering to listen.

“T-the fire,” he managed after several long minutes. “The day the orcs came and the city burned. I-I was running, and she-she was there. Her daggers- Father’s blood.” He trembled but calmed when Tiffin gave him a kiss, asking what happened next.

“A bird….a partridge...like we hunt...it saved me…”

The dream was fading now, but the memory of the bird stayed. He was sure there had been someone else. Someone bright and smiling. Varian shook his head, trying to recall more to no avail.

Tiffin’s laugh made him falter, and he pulled back to look at her, his hands always holding her. She smiled, making his heart melt just a little more, even as she took one of his large hands and moved to place it over the small bump that was forming on her belly.

“You know how my grandmother was always telling stories about what we see in our dreams. Well, she used to say when a married man dreams of a partridge, he will be the father of a brave son.”

Varian blinked, then laughed with her. “It was only a dream after all. Just a nightmare.” He gave her a gentle kiss even as he laid back down onto his pillow, Tiffin drawing the covers back up to cover him.

“Son or daughter, they will be the bravest in all Azeroth, if only because you are their mother.”


	2. On the Second Day of Christmas...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tiffin meets some odd birds.
> 
> Chapter Warnings: none

Only once she had made sure Varian was asleep did Tiffin slip out of their bed. She rested one hand over her stomach, smiling as she patted it.

“My child,” she whispered, walking over towards the window. In the distance, the sun was just beginning to peek over the mountains, painting the sky in a soft orange glow. Tiffin sighed at the site, hand still resting over the bump under which new life was growing.

“One day you’re going to rule all of this.” She leaned against the window, looking out to the city below. The Cathedral's bells had just begun to ring, calling the people from their beds. Tiffin moved to sit in a chair, one that had been placed so she could still look out the window.

“One day, you’re going to be just as brave and as strong as your father. And hopefully just as smart as your mother.” 

As the bells continued to ring, it caused a variety of birds to scatter into the air. Tiffin watched as a pair of what appeared to be doves came towards her window. She sat still as they landed just on the ledge, their soft coos filling the room with peace.

She stilled as one of the doves cautiously began to enter the room, its companion sitting just behind it. As she watched, she noticed that the birds were not the pure white doves her father had raised, but rather grey in color, their wings speckled with dull brown and black spots.

Tiffin was content to watch the birds enter the room. She loved how the early morning light reflected off their smooth feathers, and more than once, she compared them to herself and her sleeping husband.

The queen was beginning to doze off when the bird who had been perched on the window fluttered over from its spot to rest on her pregnant stomach. Startled, Tiffin sucked in a quick breath, calming herself as she sat still.

It was just curious it seemed. The dove pressed it’s beak to her, but never enough to cause her pain. She slowed her breathing and watched as the other bird joined a few minutes later. The pair made a couple of cooing noises, then turned to stare at her.

There was something very off about what was going on, and if it weren’t for the pinching in her back from sitting in this position, Tiffin would claim she had been dreaming.

From nowhere, Tiffin felt a sneeze, and she could not stop herself in time. That seemed to spook the birds and when Tiffin had reopened her eyes, they were flying off into the sunrise.

“It’s a shame,” she mumbled aloud. “I wonder what that was about.” Looking down to her stomach, Tiffin’s mouth twitched. Her grandmother had been very superstitious and some of that had rubbed off on the young queen.

“If-” she wondered. “Yes. One day you will be a wise king.” Tiffin looked up, the sun now casting its warm glow over the city she had grown to love. Standing, the queen made her way to the window, leaning against it.

“One day, you will bring peace to this world. And I cannot wait to watch you grow.”


	3. On The Third Day of Christmas...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even Anduin is not immune to irrational fears.
> 
> Chapter Warnings: Mentions of Character Death, Nightmares

While young Prince Anduin harbored the natural fears of losing his loved ones or nightmares of his failure as king, there was one secret fear he hid from everyone.

The first time the encounter had occurred when Anduin was a young toddler, barely two years old. Katrana had insisted the royal family take some time out of this city. Of course, she would stay behind to take care of things while Anduin and Varian took a private moment to themselves. They hadn’t gone far. Bolvar had lent them his cottage, and the two took some time.

It had been just over a year since Tiffin had died, and Varian was still uneasy about many things. However, it was always Anduin’s laugh and smile that cheered him up, brought him courage. And it was Anduin’s screams of terror that shot pain through his heart.

Varian had been relaxing under the summer sun when such a scream came. Without a thought for himself, the king picked a stick, his sword was inside, and raced to Anduin. What he found made him blink and stop in his tracks.

Anduin was cornered by a pure black hen. The creature was angered by some form and Anduin was backed against the house, tears streaming down his chubby face. When he saw Varian, he took the chance and ran, cowering behind his father.

Kneeling down, Varian turned, shooing the hen away. He asked Anduin what had happened. His son was not one to terrorize animals.

The toddler responded that he had wanted to pet the hens. He’d never seen something like them and wanted to say hello.

That evening, Varian had taken his son inside and as best as he could, explained why Anduin shouldn’t always trust different animals, even if they seemed nice. He’d made sure Anduin had understood that approaching an animal while it was near it’s nest was dangerous and he might get hurt. Anduin had nodded, seeming to understand, even as Varian tucked him into bed and forgot about the incident by the next morning.

The next time it happened, Anduin was standing in his room, Bolvar assisting him in dressing for the parade. Anduin was excited because it would be the first time he would see his father in a year. The first time since the man had gone missing.

They were walking down the hallway, just passed the kitchens when Anduin heard the squack. In an instant, he froze, breath becoming heavy. A black hen ran passed him, a junior cook not too far behind.

Of course, Bolvar was quick to notice the change in Anduin’s gleeful demeanor. He had hurried the ten year old to a corner, comforting him even as Anduin began to cry. The prince told Bolvar about his fear of black hens. He was scared of how they chased him  and how their feathers could allow them to hide in the dark. Anduin told him how they reminded him of the black dragons he often dreamed about.

Bolvar comforted him. He had explained that everyone had a fear that may be considered irrational, but the fear was what made them human. He had told Anduin that it was okay to be afraid and that black hens were supposed to bring good luck. And, he had promised to always protect Anduin from any black hen or dragon.

But two years later, after Varian had been made whole and after Onyxia had been defeated, Bolvar had died, leaving Anduin alone again with his fears.

For several years, he managed to get by. It was not like he saw many chickens in general. Mostly, he saw the animals in his dreams, watching them shift into the terrible Katrana and then into Onyxia. Those nights, he woke up screaming.

When he began training with the Light, the dreams lessoned and soon was just a memory of the distant past. After nearly losing his father for a second time, Anduin found himself at peace with life around him and with the world.

Then he had been shipwrecked and stranded in a strange land called Pandaria. They did have chickens here, but, as in Stormwind, the pure black ones were uncommon.

One night, after many months among the kind pandren, Anduin awoke to a gut-wrenching cry that made him shoot out of bed. He raced out of the house he was staying at, and stopped in horror.

Staring at him, was the largest hen he had ever seen. It came up to his waist, it’s red eyes boring into him. The prince stumbled back, shaking with fear that he had not felt in a long time. In horror, he watched as the hen began to change. Its feathers fell to the ground, replaced by scales. Its red eyes watched him even as its beak melted into a snout that was filled with bright razor sharp teeth.

Anduin fell against the stairs of the pandaren cottage, shaking in fear as the black dragon approached him.

“N-no. Y-you’re all dead.”

The dragon tilted his head from side to side, then moved to press its snout to Anduin’s forehead. A vision of a tavern deep within the mists filled his mind. Anduin merely gulped even as he shot awake, the worried innkeeper hovering over him.

He did not have the dream again, but he thought about it often. It was only after he had nearly died to the divine bell, that Anduin learned about a supposedly uncorrupted black dragon living in Pandaria.  Against his father’s wishes, he had gone, ignoring the black hen that was watching him as he left.


	4. On the Fourth Day of Christmas...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A robin, a swallow, a canary, and a raven, all appear in a dream.
> 
> Chapter Warnings: Animal Death
> 
> Note: Growing up, I've heard this verse sung both four calling birds and four colly birds (or songbirds and black birds), so the chapter is a mix of those birds. Also, this is set after SoO but before War Crimes.

The first clue should have been the fact that he was walking easily without his cane. He didn’t think anything of the ease by which he navigated the keep of Lion’s Landing, but rather, found himself drawn to move outside, away from the room where he woke.

His second clue should have come when he entered the bright sunlight only find his father standing before him. To say Varian Wrynn was an imposing man would be an understatement, but the past year alone had given Anduin renewed hope in the man. Indeed, instead of his usual gruff facade, Varian seemed to be at peace, just enjoying the moment of silence and the warmth of the sun on his scarred face. 

It took Anduin a moment to notice the small red-chested bird that hopped along his father’s armor. His head tilted just as the robin’s did, the beady black eyes looking into his own. Without thought, Anduin reached his finger out, smiling as the bird flew towards him.

_ You have grown so strong my son. Perhaps this land truly is a new beginning. For all of us. _

The words made Anduin smile, even as the world shifted around him. It was in this moment he realized that maybe this wasn’t quite real and the prince laughed off the fact that he hadn’t noticed earlier. But, it would do no harm to see where the dream wanted to take him. To see what it wanted to show him. All around him, world moved, blurring fast, and, even though he felt ill, he simply closed his eyes and let it happen.

When he opened them again, he was at the Temple of the Red Crane. It was a dazzling sight, pure and untouched by the sha that he knew had only just been removed. But this version, this was before that. Before-

Anduin walked towards the temple, noticing a tall shadow standing at the top of the stairs. Feeling no pain, he troted up, looking forwards to seeing the Great Crane, even if it were only a dream.

However, he was not met by the Celestial, but rather, by the familiar face of the Prophet Velen. For a moment, Anduin stumbled but remembered himself, bowing slightly. The ancient draenei returned the motion, smiling all the while. As he went to speak to his mentor and friend, Anduin stopped, watching as Velen held out a hand.

Perched there was a black swallow with a white streak down its chest. It was made tiny by the large palm it sat in. As with the robin, Anduin reached out, only to have the bird fly past him. He spun, watching as it darted away out of sight.

_ Dark times come. But we must have hope. _

The words sounded familiar, but even as Anduin turned to reply, the world shifted once more. Instead of Velen’s calm gaze, Anduin found himself looking into Wrathion’s cunning smile. His heart seemed to still for just a moment, but the prince shook the feeling away.

He had spent the several months of his recovery in the company of the last black dragon and he would by lying if he said he did not enjoy their time together. But, after the siege, and after Garrosh’s defeat, Wrathion seemed to have changed some. Where his smile had once left Anduin questioning what the dragon was planning, now he found it scared him, and indeed he did falter back a step. When his boot met grass instead of the stone he’d just been standing on, Anduin took a moment to draw his gaze away from Wrathion and towards his surroundings.

No longer was he at the Temple, but rather, he had ended up, well he assumed given that everything was shrouded in mist, at the Tavern where they had spent so much time. But it was truly impossible to tell where he was and Anduin was not going to question this strange dream any further. He was beginning to doubt if it was even a dream at all, or if the universe was attempting to forewarn him of something that was to come.

Something small and fast flew past him, and Anduin jumped even as he turned around. Perched on top of Wrathion’s perfectly placed turban, he found a startling yellow canary. The bird twittered and shuffled around a little before dropping down to the ground. It laid there, unmoving, tiny legs to the air, it's bright feathers fading as the mists came to surround it. To Anduin’s great surprise, Wrathion merely continued to smile, and kept on doing so to a point Anduin moved to point out that he was acting strangely.

_ I do hope you are not too soft to wear your father’s crown. _

The cold voice startled Anduin away from the dead bird and back to Wrathion. But even as he tried to form words, the dragon was fading into the mists. Anduin moved after him, but found himself lost and surrounded by the thick fog. Refusing to give up, Anduin struggled through only to stumble to his knees. He winced as his palms scraped across cold stone, but quickly pulled himself back up. 

Once again, his surroundings had changed. No longer was he lost in that mysterious mist, but rather, he stood above it at another temple he knew well.

Anduin took a cautious step forward as he approached the Temple of the White Tiger. His mind was confused, scared, and he could feel his body shaking. There was something terribly wrong here, but whatever it was, he could not quite pinpoint. Still, he was resolved to see whatever the dream, or as he now assumed, vision, wanted to tell him. So, with great trepidation, he approached the Tiger’s temple.

As with the other locations, the temple was empty of all life. The stillness only served to unnerve him all the more, but the shadow up ahead reminded Anduin of his duty. He didn’t give up, and took one shaky step onto the final bridge that separated him from the shape. When he was about half-way across the bridge, it took form and Anduin heard himself gasp.

Standing before him was the former Warchief, Garrosh Hellscream.

Anduin felt a dizziness sneak up on him even as he froze. He was shaking hard with fear and it took all his control just to stand up.

Garrosh approached the bridge, Gorehowl steady in his hand. Anduin could feel the smugness practically oozing off the orc as he approached, though his attention was drawn to the raven that was perched on Garrosh’s shoulder.

For the fourth time in this strange vision, Anduin’s eyes met with those of the bird and all at once, he felt the world give way. The raven flew at him, a wretched ‘caw’ cutting through the silence, as it attacked. At the same moment, Garrosh raised Gorehowl, swinging the weapon to cut that the ropes that held the bridge up.

_ Die, Whelp! _

With the bird on him, Anduin could only scream as he fell down into the endless abyss, the laugh of the one who had nearly killed him once before.

“ANDUIN!”

The shout and the shaking woke him as he fell. He shot up, regretting it as his ribs protested. Anduin whined in pain, even as a strong hand gently lead him back to his pillow. A few blinks later, Anduin met with his father’s worried eyes.

“Are you-” the king began but Anduin shook his head.

“It was just a bad dream.”


	5. On the Fifth Day of Christmas...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Legion attacks Stormwind
> 
> Chapter Warnings: Minor Legion Spoilers, Bomb/Weapon of Mass Destruction

In an instant, the beautiful day changed as the cloudless skies turned from blue to green.

Prince Anduin rushed from Stormwind Castle, urging anyone he could find to flee towards safety. His heart pounded in his chest even as he made his way towards the front gate of the city, his horse panting hard. After handing the reins off, the prince went into the office of General Hammond Clay, ignoring the looks that several of those in attendance gave him. He could worry about that later.

“What’s the status?” he asked, even as his eyes moved to look out the window. The office was positioned so it looked over the Valley of Heroes, most specifically towards the front gates of the city. Anduin frowned when he noticed the gates were closed, worrying about those caught outside.

“Reports have already come in,” began Clay, offering Anduin several pieces of parchment. “Priestess Anetta was able to escape from Northshire. We believe that is where the Legion followers infiltrated and summoned their masters.” He went on to explain the numbers she had seen, and the destruction of the abbey. “She noted that she attempted to warn Goldshire, only to find the city already burning. Judging from the reports from her and from the rider from Goldshire, there are no more refugees to be found.”

The news hit Anduin hard, his heart dropping. “Keep someone on watch for anyone. Make sure we let-” A loud bang drowned out the rest of his words, and everyone within the room found themselves grabbing for something to hold onto as the tower crumbled.

“What on Azeroth?” the general cried as he and the others turned to look out that window. To their great horror, they saw only the smoking remains of the Valley below. The great gate that lead to the city was obliterated, and beyond that, they could see the hordes of demons that were just waiting to attack.

Anduin was the first to get back onto his feet, shouting orders with an authority he’d never really known he had. The others, while stunned, followed their prince’s lead, going out to fulfil whatever duty he gave to them. Within minutes, the room was empty save for Anduin and Clay.

Clay went to speak, but Anduin held up a hand. “I am not going to hide from this. With-with my father missing, I am the one in charge. I will not abandon my people to protect myself.” Anduin nodded to Clay, picked up a map of the city, and left the tower office.

Outside, he met with Captain Revshon, taking up his saddle as she explained the situation. The Legion were at the front gate, but, despite their ability to fly, they were not attacking. Anduin asked about the civilians, to which another armored warrior explained that Andromath and his mages were working to portal all bystanders to Ironforge. It was a hard process, but they had already evacuated about ten percent of the population in the span of an hour.

_ So it would take us ten hours to get everyone out, _ Anduin thought to himself.  _ I doubt the Legion will wait around long enough for that to happen. But, why are they waiting in the first place? What are they waiting for? _ For a moment, the strategy eluded him, but then a small memory flared.

“Theramore,” he whispered, still lost in thought. “They must…” Anduin didn’t notice everyone looking at him as he raised his eyes to the sky. In the distance, he saw it, eyes widening. It couldn’t be possible, but….if it was.

“Get everyone into the basements of the city! The Legion plan to repeat Theramore here! We must get everyone underground….Now!”

His desperate words were met with swift orders and rushed movements. Anduin turned his own horse, moving as quickly as the sea of people would allow him. Somewhere, he heard people screaming, heard his name called, but his mind became focused on one thing. There was a plan, one he was not sure would work, and would mean his death if he failed. But, if it did work, it may just save the lives of everyone in the city.

A hand grabbed his reins and Anduin yelped in surprise. Instinct told him to jerk back, but he held himself still, turning towards the hand that held him.

“You have a plan, highness?” Priestess Anetta looked at him with concern, but Anduin could tell she wanted to help. He nodded, and offered her a hand. Luckily, she was small in stature and once she settled, Anduin resumed the journey through the city. Anduin knew Anetta would want him to explain, but he told her to wait. First, they needed to make it to the Cathedral of Light.

As the large building came into view, Anduin noticed more and more people surrounding him. He couldn’t be too surprised. After all, the catacombs under the Cathedral were massive. They would keep a lot of people safe.

It took them too long, in Anduin’s opinion, to reach the holy place, but they did. At the stairs, Anduin and Anetta slid off the horse, leaving it in the care of a guard, even as they rushed to get inside. Anduin was surprised at how easily the crowd split for them, though he paid little notice to the worried faces.

“Anetta!” a voice rang out, and Anduin watched as the Northshire priestess went to embrace the High Priestess Laurena. Even though he had gotten to know Laurena well over the past few years he had lived at home, he had never seen her and Anetta in the same room. But it made sense, after all, Laurena was constantly going on about her little sister who lived in the abbey where the two were born.

After allowing the two a moment to catch up, Anduin approached the dais. He noticed two of the brothers following him, and allowed himself a moment of relief when he counted the five of them. This plan might just work after all.

“Prince Anduin,” the High Priestess nodded, her hand still clasping Anetta’s. “The guards told me that you believe the Legion plan to cause another Theramore?”

“In a way.” He took a breath, looking at the other priests before explaining. “The Legion are clever, they would not allow us time to sit and gather our forces, not unless they were planning something else. It has been two hours now since they came, three if you include the hour Priestess Anetta left Northshire. Every report about the Legion has stated that they attack instantly, unless they have another motive.

“In the sky, there is something coming. I found a mention in the reports from Draenor, of a bomb used that would be just as powerful. Instead of arcane energy, the bomb utilizes fel magics. If they were too drop a bomb of size onto the city, it would leak into everything, and kill everyone, no matter where we hide. The damages left would make Stormwind uninhabitable.

“But, there is a note from one of the Horde’s paladins. They wrote that the fel magics seem to be repelled by the Light, and that is where our hope lies.” Anduin placed the map he had taken from Clay onto the altar, using the candles to hold down the edges.

“The Cathedral lies in the middle of the city.” That was Brother Benjamin. Anduin nodded, pointing to the great building on the map.

“It is also the tallest building. From the bell tower, I believe if the five of us can cast a barrier, then Stormwind and her people might stand a chance. But, we must time it precisely. If we put it up too soon, then the Legion will hold onto the bomb, wait until our mana runs out, and then drop it. If we are a moment too late, the city will burn.”

A heavy weight dropped over the priests as they fell into silence at the words. Was the prince right, they wondered. Did the fate of all of Stormwind now depend on them casting this barrier.

“But,” Brother Joshua’s worried voice cut through the silence. “Do we...do we even have enough power to create a barrier of this size? To cover all of Stormwind...even for fifty priests that would be nearly impossible.”

“We must try,” Laurena countered the man, a flash crossing her eyes. “And...there are those. One moment.”

Anduin watched as she reached down under the altar. To his surprise, he saw a small safe like structure there. Laurena placed the tips of her fingers to it, watching as the dial spun around, then as the box clicked open. From within it, she withdrew a velvet black box.

“Benedictus left these behind,” she explained, opening the box. Inside, nestled on soft silk, were five rings, each made of shimmering gold. “They help the user to concentrate the usage of the Light, to wield it more effectively.” Laurena offered the box to Anduin, who picked up one ring. He could feel the power radiating through the gold, flowing into him. “I believe he had intended to use them during Deathwing’s attack, but our champions stopped him before he could use them.”

“Lucky for us,” Anetta whispered, earning a nod from the others.

Anduin watched as the others each took a ring, then turned to the people in the Cathedral. “We must try.”

“Let us go to the bell tower then. We can cast the spell best from there.” The group agreed, and began the climb to the highest tower. Anduin disliked how long it seemed to take, worried they were already too late.

When they reached the top, Anduin was relieved to see the city was still standing. His joy was short lived however when he noticed just how close the doomguards had approached with the bomb. Within the next few minutes, the bomb would be dropped and then it would be up to them to decide Stormwinds fate.

“Hold the rings until the moment before we cast the barrier,” he commanded in a hushed tone, his ring held tight in his hand. “We must wait.”

So they waited.

The minutes crawled by at an agonizing pace. Each priest remained silent, five pairs of eyes watching as the bomb inched closer. Anduin could feel his heart pounding, his head swimming with worry. He did not worry for his own life, but for the lives of those he was sworn to protect. In some distant thought, he worried for his father, and for the troops that fought on the Broken Isles. He worried for those who hid deep below the city, and for those who stood ready to defend their home.

The time came.

Everything happened within an instant, Anduin fearing they were too late, even as he called out the order. The five priests slipped on the simple golden rings. In unison, they raised their arms towards the heavens and began to pray.

They prayed for protection, for peace, for life. They asked the Light to blanket the city in its warmth, to keep it safe from the evil that sought to harm it. They called for hope, for the Light to inspire the troops that waited so far down below. They pleaded that those they loved would survive.

And the Light responded.

Just as the demons above released the bomb, the Light spread. It moved with determination, blanketing the city in its protective glow. The bomb fell towards the city, and the Light raced up to meet it, high over the city streets. High in the green sky, the two forces met with shattering results.

A deafening noise rang overhead, shaking the city with the ripples. The priests struggled, but the barrier held. Defender and demon alike looked up, watching as the bomb detonated, as the fel magics rolled harmlessly down and around the barrier. Both sides cried out, the city in victory, the demons in rage.

It took everything they had, but the five priests held the barrier until the last traces of the fel magic vanished. Unable to control it any longer, they fell to their knees, Benjamin, Joshua, and Anetta, passing out before they hit the ground. Laurena and Anduin were barely better off, each fighting not to fall into the darkness.

“We did it,” Laurena smiled to Anduin. He nodded, looking down at the others. He noticed that the rings had shattered, leaving only dust in their wake. He turned, watching as the demons began to finally invade the city, only to be met with clashing weapons.

“It’s up to the guards and champions now. May the Light bless them.”

With that, he stopped fighting and let the darkness take him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: The next few chapters deal more heavily with the Legion war and draw upon some leaked spoilers for the next xpac (though of course those 'spoilers' might not be quite true). From about here on out, is where things will diverge from canon.


	6. On the Sixth Day of Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After five years, Anduin and Wrathion reconcile.
> 
> Chapter Warnings: Legion Spoilers

When Anduin had heard the news, he was at first, reasonably skeptical. Wrathion had always claimed that he was the last, and only, uncorrupted black dragon on Azeroth, but now Anduin held a letter in his hand that claimed otherwise.

For the fourth time, he reread the letter, mouth twitching. It wasn’t like Wrathion hadn’t lied to him before. If it were not for the dire need for all races to work together against the Legion, he doubted Wrathion would even be brazen enough to send him something like this.

But if it were true….

Anduin remembered the long nights he and Wrathion had spent in the tavern. He recalled the dragon’s only most desperate wish to renew his flight. On the last night he had spent in Wrathion’s company he remembered the cold beach, the fire, the game, and the offhanded comment that sometimes being the last of something was not always the best. Of course, when Anduin tried to ask him more, Wrathion just responded with a simple ‘your move’.

Now, nearly five years after the Trial of Garrosh Hellscream, five years after Wrathion’s betrayal... Anduin felt hope. 

Maybe Wrathion wasn’t lying after all. Maybe...maybe the black dragon had meant what he said all those years ago. It wouldn’t mean Anduin would forgive or trust him again, but maybe...maybe there was a light at the end of the tunnel.

A month later, upon Anduin’s request, Wrathion came to Stormwind, the base of the Alliance operations against the Legion after Ironforge and Darnassus had been decimated. The two did not reconcile immediately, but after rather heated and several days worth of discussions, they realized that nothing would come of them pretending they hated each other. Rather, they both felt relieved at the fact that they were together once again, though they did agree it could have been under better circumstances.

That was how they ended up playing Jihui in the parlor, each prince talking softly to the other, mentioning, vaguely, what they had been up to the past five years. As always, Wrathion seemed to know everything, still acting like the child he could be. Anduin made a comment to him, after all, he had a world to save...was he really ready to be a father as well?

Wrathion had just smirked. “Well, we’ve decided that it is in whelps best interest to be taken to a secure location. After all it would not do to have the Legion or the Red Dragonflight to have access to them.”

“And who will care for them? Left? Right?”

“No. Left and Right are to stay by my side. However, I did meet a rather interesting person who was more than willing to help care for them. She’s clever, well for a human at least.”

Anduin glared and Wrathion laughed, refusing to give anymore details about this person. Instead, he made a move that would ‘win’ him the game, but lose it for the both of them. However, for once, Anduin did not grumble about how the object was for them to work together, but rather, he went on to ask more about these mysterious eggs.

First he asked where they came from. 

How did they transport them? 

How had he met this human?

Was she really able to take care of the eggs?

“How many eggs?” he asked, even though Wrathion had turned aside all his other questions.

This one however seemed to be reasonable enough and Wrathion smiled to Anduin. “Six. We managed to save six eggs before the rift closed.”

“Six. That’s a good number. And, if they all make it through this war...there is a good chance of the Black Dragonflight returning. It,” he smiled softly, “it would be nice for Azeroth to have its earthwarders once more.”

“Yes,” Wrathion agreed, placing down a new piece. 

“It’s your move.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I feel like canon-ly, it would take a whole lot for Anduin and Wrathion ever to become even just friends again, but, I like to think positive? And I imagine their 'discussions' were quite awful at times.


	7. On the Seventh Day of Christmas...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The war with the Legion heads to a climax.
> 
> Chapter Warnings: Legion Spoilers/Non-Canon, Nightmares

Sleeping was the last thing Anduin wanted to do, but he knew that their final assault against the Legion was just days, if not hours, away. Still, he was exhausted, and he could not stand the way his vision kept blurring towards black. Only when Wrathion had mentioned the way Anduin was nodding off over his soup, did the human prince consent.

Well, he had thought he had gone to sleep, but in all honesty, it now felt like that war was the dream. Anduin opened his eyes, blinking against the hard sunlight. He realized he had been sleeping against his mother’s grave, and he frowned.

Had that all really been a dream? The Legion invading, his city begin attacked, his father dying. Were he and Wrathion friends once more? Or were they still enemies? He rubbed his temples, too confused to try to figure this out. Instead, he opted to head towards the castle, towards his own proper bed. After saying a quiet goodbye to his mother, Anduin began towards the exit of the graveyard. He passed by the graves, still wondering which reality was the dream. When he felt like something was watching him, he turned, forgetting it all in an instant.

A pair of tall black swans were standing just behind him.

Anduin froze. His own wide eyes met with their starring black. His breath hitched, even as he took a step back. When the birds raised their wings, the prince turned and ran. He rushed through the graveyard, heart pounding. At the turn to the city, he found his way blocked by two more swans, another pair approaching from the path to the harbor. With a glance over his shoulder, Anduin decided to just run straight ahead. In that moment of panic, he forgot that the lake would block his way. Swimming towards him across the glassy water, were another pair of black swans.

Turning once more, he found himself well and truly surrounded, forced to watch as the black fowl took steps closer. Anduin shook with unexplainable fear, his eyes watering. When the six swans stopped, he spun around, noting the circle they formed.

“Please. What do you want?” he whispered, voice rough with fear.

The answer came as the swans began to sing around him. Their voices were not sweet like a sparrow or robin, but rather deep, throaty, and frightening. Anduin raised his hands to his ears, attempting to shut out the sound. Instead, it cut through, shook him to his core, even as he fell to his knees, begging for the sounds to stop.

A warmth surrounded him, but Anduin could barely feel it. All he could comprehend was the shattering fear that seemed to be taking over his heart. The fear that he had felt for the past three years during this war, while he watched the place he called home burn. Even when they had driven the Legion from Azeroth and to Argus, even then he could not control the way all of this just made him want to run and hide. But the warmth did not leave him. It whispered softly like a reassuring voice, reminding him to have courage.

Slowly, Anduin Wrynn looked up.

Instead of the cruel intent he had found in the black swans, Anduin was met with kindness, joy, and hope, all of which radiated from the white swan that now stood before him. His heart jumped and he fell back onto his bottom. The white swan seemed to chuckle. It leaned down, pressing it’s beak to Anduin’s cheek before turning around.

White light surrounded the swan, its wings raising high. Anduin watched as the light spread, flowing towards the black swans. They seemed as afraid as he had been, but soon found themselves swallowed. The black in their feathers melted away, fading into the sky. As the light grew the black swans turned to white, freed from whatever spell has been cast on them. Wonder filled Anduin as the light faded high in the sky, exploding above him in a brilliant burst.

He was stunned, stars filling his vision. Rubbing his sore eyes, Anduin blinked. The first thing he noticed that was that the birds were gone. A quick flash of white made him turn and a smile crossed his face.

Swimming across the lake were seven pure white swans. The prince stood, watching as the flock floated, all seven pairs of eyes watching him. Waiting for...something.

Then he realized what this vision ment. He bowed low, thanking the spectral beings. When he looked up, it was no longer seven swans standing before him, but all those who had already lost or given their lives since the Legion invaded Azeroth. The ghosts easily covered the lake, flowing back to the great keep and even further back to the mountains that surrounded the city.

At the front of the ghosts, stood his father. 

Varian was smiling proudly as he took the few steps towards his son. Anduin found himself lost for words, tears filling his eyes. His father reached out, touching his chest, touching the locket that had once begun to his mother.

_ I will always be with you my son _ , the ghost voice echoed, before the vision vanished and Anduin awoke in his own bed, tears now flowing freely.


	8. On the Eighth Day of Christmas...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After the war ends, Anduin gets lost in Silver Pine Forest.
> 
> Chapter Warnings: none

Sixth months after their final battle against the Legion, Anduin Wrynn finally found himself on the road home. He, like so many others, knew that the Legion would return, as they always had, but for now, with Kil’jaeden’s fall, Anduin prayed that perhaps Azeroth would know peace. Even though they had lost so many in the war, relations amongst the peoples of Azeroth were at an all time high. The prince smiled to himself even as he realized he’d taken a wrong turn.

It was spring now. The air was warm and the wind was refreshing. Anduin had left the small town where he and his guards were stationed so that he could enjoy the morning. But now, he glanced around the unfamiliar roads of Silver Pine, sighing heavily. Of course he’d get lost when he had a meeting with the Warchief Sylvanas Windrunner that afternoon.

“There has to be a town nearby,” he muttered to himself and turned his horse back down the road. The trot was pleasant enough, however, as the sun moved higher into the sky, Anduin’s worries grew. As allies, the forsaken were invaluable, though Anduin did not agree with their leader’s tactics all the time. He shook his head, moving to instead focus on the path in front of him.

Almost an hour after he had gotten lost, Anduin saw something from between the trees. Urging his mount forwards, the prince took off towards the building. Even as he approached, Anduin began to slow, his eyes wandering over the ghost town.

“Where are we?” he wondered, clicking his tongue. The steady mount moved forwards, carefully picking its way through the abandoned place. It looked as if it had not seen life for many years, thought Anduin couldn’t help to notice the violet remains of magic that had long since permeated many of the wooden buildings.

Carefully, he made his way to the back of the town, towards the stone circle, finding himself outside the town hall. After he tied his horse to the rust covered gate, Anduin made his way in. Thankfully, the rising light still shined through the broken boards, giving the prince a way to see. Inside of the hall was just as empty as the rest of the town, books strewn across the place, chairs out of order.

A chill crawled up Anduin’s spine as he looked around. There really was nothing of note here, but still, he felt compelled to look further. In one of the corners, he spied something glowing, almost as if light was leaking through from down below. Slowly, he approached.

“What are you doing here?” a voice rang out, causing Anduin to jump. He reached for the Light, but stopped himself as he turned to face a glaring woman.

She was simply dressed in riding clothes, her brown hair cropped short around her face. Anduin felt as if those dark eyes were piercing right into his body and he bit his lip even as he backed away from the strange light.

“I-uh-I was lost,” Anduin stuttered, bowing his head to the woman. “I thought I saw something.”

She scoffed at him and rolled her eyes. “Well, if you’re lost, I can show you to town. Was that your horse outside.” When Anduin nodded, she gestured with her head. “Come on then. I’m busy too.”

Anduin conceded the point. Another glance to the corner, and a cough from the woman, made him turn to leave. After all, he did have a meeting soon.

Outside, the woman went to mount her own horse. Despite the simple pants and shirt she wore, the way she sat in the saddle reminded Anduin of someone who had been trained to ride since birth. Not something most were taught. He put the thought aside and went to his own horse, mounting smoothly. Then, they set off.

For a while, their trip was uneventful, the two riding along the road in silence. Anduin mulled over the several questions he had, but in the end settled for asking what town this was.

“Ambermill,” she replied, then paused. “Well, what once was Ambermill. It’s been abandoned by anything living for years. Not even the undead go there now however. Not since the war with the Legion began.”

Seizing his chance, Anduin went on to ask another question that was nagging at him. “Why were you in an abandoned town, Miss….” he dragged it on, but received no name.

He also received no answer, just a glare from those deep brown eyes.

Again, he conceded and the two returned to silence.

After a half an hours time, they arrived back on the main road. The woman gave him directions, but before she could turn to leave, Anduin stopped her, his face sheepish.

“Could you accompany me? I-uh-it would not do well for me to become lost again.”

A pause, but then the woman sighed. “Fine. Where did you need to go?” Anduin explained, noticing the eyebrow that was raised. “Very well, on one condition….no questions.” The prince nodded and once again the two were on their way.

It would take several hours to make it to the town where Anduin’s company was stationed. For the first hour, the two had remained silent, but surprisingly it was the woman who spoke first. She asked Anduin what business he had here, as usually it was only the forsaken or worgen who traveled these lands. She asked about the war with the Legion, smiling when he mentioned Azeroth’s great victory.

During the second hour, they stopped for a snack at a small farm, Anduin pausing as he looked towards the barn. Mary, as the farmer called her, seemed to know these people well. Feeling safe, the prince was walking towards the building. Curious, he stepped inside, watching as the people went about their work. He saw the cows being milked by some rather chatty maids. The horses stalls were being cleaned in anticipation of their tenants return now that the war was won. A shepherd was leading his flock out to the pastures, the sheep baaing and crowding close together.

“Things are finally beginning to return to normal,” Mary’s calm voice came from next to him.

Anduin nodded. “You know during those battles...when everything felt like it was going to end...the one thing I wished for was just to see something so….normal.” The prince was smiling watching as the maids took the pails of fresh milk out of the barn. “It’s nice to be nearly home.”

Mary looked at Anduin, and for a moment, he thought he saw a smile cross her lips. However, as soon as he turned his head to look at her, the woman was just back to staring at the maids, asking, in that straight voice of hers, if they should be heading on now.

The last hour of their trip was spent in pleasant conversation. Neither talked much about themselves, but rather about the world as it had been and as it was now. It was overall a rather pleasurable time, and though they parted ways as they approached the camp, they shared sentiments of meeting once again.


	9. On the Ninth Day of Christmas...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A ball is held to help Anduin find a wife.
> 
> Chapter Warnings: Suicide Mention

As spring came into full bloom, Anduin Wrynn was crowned king in a simple, yet highly elegant ceremony. It was not just humans who came to his ceremony, but rather the throne room of Stormwind Castle was filled with many of Azeroth’s races. When Anduin requested that his friend, and the man who had saved his life many times, crown him instead of the High Priestess, he thought the no would all drop dead. However, they came to an agreement. Anduin would be crowned by his choice of person, but that evening, Stormwind would host a ball, with the intention of Anduin to look for a bride.

That led him to where he was now, sitting on the throne, head resting on his chin, watching as the brilliant fabrics before him twisted and twirled. Of course, Anduin had danced some already, his knee tingling with pain. It felt as if every noble woman from the human kingdom was here, all vying for his hand in marriage. His lips twitched, feeling bad for the women who flirted with him, who tried to woo him. It wasn’t that he didn’t find the female body attractive, but rather, there had only been one person he’d ever felt any romantic attraction to, and he was pretty sure he was not one to fall in love at first sight.

Thus, he was thankful when his dear friend, the Black Prince Wrathion arrived by his side, taking his seat next to the King’s throne. Wrathion had been Anduin’s chosen person, and the nobles had begged him to reconsider. He understood their worries. Wrathion was a black dragon, but, as Anduin knew well, he was uncorrupted and had stood by the king’s side during many battles against the Legion. It was small, but after so many years, Anduin was finally beginning to trust Wrathion.

“They’re all rather annoying,” the dragon commented, leaning back in his seat. His glowing eyes roamed over the crowd almost like a beast looking for its dinner.

“Not all,” Anduin replied with a laugh. “Unlike father, I was never betrothed, so something like this is necessary I suppose. I guess you could call it tradition.”

“Ah yes of course. A fair maiden walks into the ball, dressed to perfection. She is so stunning, every head turns towards her as she enters. But she is shy, timid even as she approaches the prince, well in this case king, bowing low. The king is smitten with her at once and asks her for a dance. Then they get married a few months later, and then a few more, they begin producing babies like rabbits.”

Anduin just stared at Wrathion as the man ended his story with a small ‘hmph’. Then, he started laughing, much more loudly than he had meant to. Quickly, he caught himself, covering his mouth, but giggling all while Wrathion grinned.

“Y-yes,” he gasped for a breath. “I suppose that would be the tradition as well.”

“It’s ludacris. To find a wife at a ball.”

The king rolled his eyes and jabbed a finger at Wrathion’s arm. “Are you jealous, my dear prince? Are you angry that the king has not asked you to dance?” The glare Wrathion gave him was harsh, but it made Anduin laugh again, the king smiling as he turned back to the crowd. “You know, at the Tavern, when we were still so young, maybe then something could have come from between us. I believe you felt it as well.”

“I did,” Wrathion stated simply, now also looking out towards the crowd.

“But, such times are over now, though it is my dearest wish that you shall remain close by my side, Black Prince Wrathion. Of course, that is provided you do not leave me unconscious in the bottom of a temple again.”

Wrathion thought about that for a moment before making a counter. “What about at the top of a tower?”

That earned him another laugh, but Anduin’s eyes remained focused on the crowd. “I would hope we are beyond such petty things now, my friend.”

“Yes, I would like to believe we are.” Wrathion stood suddenly, his jewelry clinking. “Excuse me for a moment, your majesty.” With a nod of his head, Wrathion left, disappearing into the swirling colors.

As soon as he was gone, Anduin was approached for a dance, and knowing the conditions of the night, he accepted, making idle chatter with yet another flirty noble woman. So on went his night, dancing with one noble after another, his leg practically screaming in pain, when he finally declined the next dance. He had to decline several more dances on his way back to his seat, each step causing him to wince, but of course, the would-be-brides seemed to take no notice of that.

About half way back to his throne, Anduin was met by a rather stern-looking woman. She wore her hair short and undecorated. Her long gown was simple as well, deep purple in color and covering most of her body. Anduin blinked, about to decline to dance yet again, but she spoke before him.

“Do you need some assistance, your majesty?” she asked, calmly, bowing slightly. Now Anduin looked closer at her, that voice familiar. He looked over her dark brown hair, her cool brown eyes, as the realization hit him.

“M-Mary?”

Mary just nodded her head. “Yes, I was invited as a guest tonight. But...you seem like you need to sit. Didn’t you say you had an old injury?”

Anduin took her arm, gesturing towards the throne. On the outside, it looked like he was escorting her to his seat, something that caused a bit of a murmur in the crowd. But the pain blocked out most of that, Anduin all but melting into his chair as he sat down. Without a thought, he began to call the Light to himself, channelling it into his aching leg. As the pain subsided, he realized that Mary was still standing by him, and he quickly offered her the seat next to him. She took with with grace, her face seemingly more tight than normal.

“Thank you,” Anduin smiled at her, allowing the healing Light to taper off as he looked to the woman. “I can say, I did not expect to see you here.”

“I did not plan on attending, but my friend was rather insistent I come. I’m afraid I arrived too late to see your coronation.” She looked at him, eyes steady. “I didn’t realize you were the crown prince when we met, your majesty. I would have been more polite.”

He waved it away, smiling at her. “I don’t usually make a habit of telling strange women I meet in abandoned towns that fact. In my younger years I was kidnapped more times than I care to remember.” Anduin sighed, looking back to the crowd. This time, he noticed a few glares being shot in Mary’s direction, which caused him to glance back to the woman next to him.

She sat steadfast, her face the picture of serenity. Obviously, such small petty nonsense did not affect her, and it made Anduin think. Mary was collected and calm. She had a sense of adventure much like himself, but also held a rather stern outlook in the world. Overall, she would be considered plain. Her hair and eyes were common, her skin tanned from living out in the country, but Anduin could not deny, even though he had only seen it once, she had a beautiful smile.

“Mary!” a voice rang out, and pair turned their heads as Wrathion approached the throne, a wide grin showing his slightly pointed teeth. “You took off, and now I find you sitting next to the king himself. You didn’t even let me introduce you.” The grin turned to a pout.

Mary laughed, the sound soft, not a true laugh. Anduin turned to look as she stood, going to stand next to Wrathion. “My apologies, Black Prince. It seemed his majesty was in need of saving.”

Wrathion looked to Anduin, face concerned. His eyes went down to Anduin’s injured leg. “Too much dancing?”

“No magical head-turning woman has come to the ball yet,” he shrugged, face smooth as he looked at the pair. Anduin felt uncertain thoughts filling his mind, worried that Mary was one of Wrathion’s Black Talons. If she was….

“Ah yes, introductions, even though you two seem to know each other.” Wrathion turned taking Mary’s hand and bowing to Anduin. “King Anduin Wrynn,” he began, voice overfilled with ceremony. Anduin resisted rolling his eyes. “May I introduce the daughter of the late Lord Hewell of Gilneas, Mary Hewell.”

Anduin bowed his head out of habit, but jerked it back up as the words rang out. “Hewell? Y-you’re a noble?”

It was Mary who rolled her eyes, but smiled kindly at Anduin. “I don’t usually make a habit of telling strange men I meet in abandoned towns that fact.” She laughed, looking to Wrathion, then back to Anduin. “Yes, my father passed not too long after Gilneas fell. He was afflicted with the curse of the worgen, but could not handle the change.” Pausing, Mary looked to the floor. Anduin worried for her, but the moment was gone and she was looking at him with those calm eyes once more. “He took his own life not long after we arrived in Darnassus.”

“I am sorry to hear that,” Anduin said sincerely. “Genn had believed that was the reason you ran?”

Mary gave him a small nod, her eyes straight as she spoke. “Yes. Everything was in upheaval. I just left, exploring and working for a living. As time went on, I ended up in Pandaria, and was taken in by a family in the Jade Forest. Eventually, I became a student of Chi-ji’s, and learned the ways of the Light.”

“That is where I met her,” Wrathion cut in, his face unreadable. “When my champion and I went to seek the great Crane’s blessing. I came back to visit her many times, but after the trial, I had to go a different way. It was not until after the Legion attacked, after I had discovered those eggs that we met again.”

“Y-you’re the-” Anduin looked at Mary in wonder. She shrugged.

“A dear friend came to me. He told me about the eggs. He remembered how I had taken to helping take care of the eggs of Chi-ji’s.” Mary looked to Wrathion, as if looking for permission. When the dragon nodded, she went on. “Wrathion was looking for a place to keep the eggs safe from harm. I suggested the town of Ambermill. It was abandoned and long ago, the town had belonged to my family.”

“The light from the town hall. You were keeping the eggs there.”

“Yes. You were the only person that ever came into the town. Behold my surprise when Wrathion came and I told him what had happened. When he told me that you were none other than Anduin Wrynn, crown-prince of Stormwind and leader of the army that defeated the Legion.”

Anduin blushed. He readjusted himself in his chair, thinking now. “So, you invited her to the ball?”

Wrathion grinned, taking Mary’s hand once more. “She is a noble woman of Gilneas. I thought, at least you would like to meet her.”

He turned to Mary. “Did he tell you what this ball was for?”

“To find you a wife, yes. But, begging your pardon, majesty, I have no interest in the position. I have spent too many years being free of the duties of nobility and I quite enjoy it. I am rather happy where I am.”

“I understand. But will you stay awhile.” Anduin looked to Wrathion. “You could bring the eggs here to Stormwind. They can hatch in safety and in warmth.” He turned to Mary. “I would like to learn about the black dragon eggs myself. How to care for them. Perhaps something like that would work best?”

After a few more minutes of talking about the idea, Mary and Wrathion agreed. Anduin was relieved. He watched as Mary left, then turned to Wrathion. “She reminds me of you.”

The dragon looked at the king, at his friend, and smiled. “I’ll take that as a compliment, your majesty.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mary is a character thought up by P_3A.


	10. On the Tenth Day of Christmas...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The House of Nobles demands that Anduin find a wife.
> 
> Chapter Warnings: Arranged Marriage

“What did she say about this?” the Black Prince Wrathion asked slowly, turning to face the king of Stormwind. Anduin Wrynn opened his mouth to speak, but a voice answered before he could.

“It was my idea.” Both men spun towards the door, towards the figure that stood there. Mary Hewell was smiling as she crossed the room, taking a spot at the table to Anduin’s left. “It is not the most favorable outcome I will agree, but I think it will work best for the three of us.”

Wrathion considered that. “I thought you were not interested in becoming queen.”

“I’m not.” Mary rested her elbows on the table, her chin sitting just on top of her hands. “But, it is better than watching anyone of those women become queen. They are too,” she paused, looking for a word, “petty. They are backstabbing and always looking to oneup the others in the kingdom. They would not be good for our dear king.”

“I’d rather have a friend as my wife than a stranger,” Anduin added, reaching to take one of Mary’s hands and one of Wrathion’s. With their hands in each of his, he brought the three of them together. “Mary is clever in the ways of the nobility and handles what a queen would need to be capable of. I believe father would have approved highly of you.”

“I am honored by those words, Anduin.” She was smiling and Anduin brought her hand up to kiss.

Then he looked to Wrathion. “And my dear friend, she would support this friendship between us as well. Wherever it may go. I do believe between the three of us, Stormwind, rather Azeroth, has a wonderful chance of growing off the peace we have found.”

His answer seemed to satisfy the both of them. After making sure with Mary that this was what she wanted, Anduin got up to leave. Now, it was his job to bring the House of Nobles on board with the idea. Not an easy task despite his position.

A year had passed since Anduin had been crowned king. However, he was still learning the extent of his rule.

During the past year and half, the nobles had insisted on holding a new ball every month, all with the purpose of finding him a wife. Over that time, he had had countless meetings with said nobles, eventually agreeing to picking someone within that year of becoming king. So now, once more, he went to the meeting room, where woman after woman would be suggested to him. While he could not deny the charm and grace from each woman he’d met, he felt no attachment to any single one of them. For the first time in a year, at this meeting, Anduin would offer his own suggestion. As king, he could of course choose who he wanted without hesitation; but he learned at a young age the importance of making the nobles feel like it had been their idea all along.

Anduin went in, the nobles all too eager to suggest their own daughters and the daughters of their allies for the king to consider. However, Anduin had chosen Mary long ago, though he had never brought it up until she asked him about it.The look of pure startelement on the faces of the men around the table when he brought up Mary’s name made Anduin want to smile. Some nobles even got to their feet, all but jumping out of their chairs.

“But she isn’t even-”

“The family holds no land. What benefit-”

“Majesty, please reconsider. What about-”

The objections came faster than Anduin had anticipated, but he stood firm. He was clever in twisting around the benefits of his suggested bride, offering new ideas and watching as the nobles began adding their own.

Mary was indeed a perfect candidate. She would help bridge that final gap between Gilneas and Stormwind, and Genn had sent a letter approving of her. She had spent time away from the nobility so she could see the world from a perspective many others could not. As a priestess, she was close with the Light, and she was a friend of the Black Prince.

There it was, Anduin realized. Now the conversation would turn to Wrathion.

“She must be a spy.”

“She’s helping those black dragons to grow. And in our city no less!”

“But they are uncorrupted. We have all seen that for ourselves.”

“It must be a ruse. Surely after Lady Prestor we now know-”

“The Light and the situation of their hatching has proven to be efficient in removing any corruption from the black dragon eggs,” Anduin cut in, eyes narrowed. “Lady Hewell is indeed a close friend of the Black Prince, but I am as well. Wrathion is wise and brave. Do not forget that without his help, Stormwind and Azeroth would not be standing here today. I, myself, would have perished long ago.”

“But, majesty. I was under the assumption that Lady Hewell had no want to become queen. Does she approve of this?”

Anduin nodded, looking around to the faces as he spoke. He saw a variety of expressions ranging from pure anger to coming acceptance. The king knew that this might be his one chance to bring them on board with the idea.

“Yes. In fact, Lady Hewell made the suggestion herself. She was concerned that even though her family has nearly died out, she would not be approved. But as you can see, the people of Stormwind love her, both as a noble and as a priestess. Little pettiness that would cause others to turn to backstabbing or deceit, Lady Hewell has shown time and time again that she is above that. Despite her own wishes against the notion, Lady Hewell has offered the rest of her life to our kingdom.

“Lady Hewell is a dear friend to me,” he went on, now watching as more and more of the nobles seemed to take to the idea. “Yes, she will need to be taught about certain aspects of our life, but that is a task I know I can trust to you.”

Slowly, the nobles began to calm, and discuss more thoroughly about the woman in question. Anduin sat back, only adding in when asked for his opinion. Of course, Mary wasn’t perfect. Anduin knew the stuffy lifestyle of royalty would bother her, and he did worry about producing heirs. After almost a year, while he loved Mary in his own way, he was not sure if either of them could really get to the idea of actually doing anything like that, despite Wrathion’s offering to help. The king sighed, and turned his attention back to the conversation.

The discussion went on for several hours, Anduin having food and drink brought to the room. Always overthinking things, the nobles examined every aspect of the woman in question. Finally, late in the afternoon, they gave their approval, and, to Anduin’s great horror, began asking him about wedding details.


	11. On the Eleventh Day of Christmas...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a wedding.
> 
> Chapter Warnings: None

Despite their wishes for a small ceremony, Anduin Wrynn and Mary Hewell were married at the Cathedral of Light to a crowd that seemed to be never ending. While they both grumbled about it in their spare time, they knew it was their duty to provide what the people wanted. Mary in particular was not to happy with the arrangement, but when Wrathion offered to stand in for her father, she slowly became more comfortable with the idea.

So, on a crisp fall day, the two were married. Stormwind now had a Queen to call their own, and, much to Mary’s surprise, the people were overjoyed. As they rode from the cathedral back to the castle, Anduin often saw a blush cross her face, and couldn’t help commenting at how cute it was. However, his own blush came when the people asked the pair of them for a kiss.

It was awkward that first kiss, but somehow they managed. The dragon laughing in the background was little help, and the new couple shot him many glares before they gave the crowd what it wanted. Screams filled their ears.

That evening, a section of Stormwind Castle was open to all. There was fine food, wonderful music, and lots of dancing. For the most part, Anduin and Mary remained on their respective thrones, greeting those who came to visit. Until Anduin watched as a new group of musicians came up to play.

“My I have this dance, my lady?” he asked, standing suddenly and offering Mary his hand. She took it daintily, holding her white gown in her other hand. The pair walked down to the middle of the dance floor, the crowd clearing a spot for them. With a nod to the musicians, Anduin took Mary’s hand and waist, preparing to dance.

“Is your leg okay?” Mary managed. Anduin just smiled and pulled her into the dance.

Eleven players each raised a different pipe to their lips and a joyful song burst forth. The newlyweds danced in time to the tune, both laughing and smiling as they moved around the room. Within a few moments, other couples joined them and soon the room was filled with the spinning colors of dresses and happy laughs.

Anduin and Mary danced for several songs, both feeling on top of the world. At one point, Wrathion did cut in, dancing with Mary while Anduin went to rest his leg. When the two returned, Wrathion asked Anduin for a dance.

The king laughed, but accepted.

While there was a small murmur among the crowd, the feeling was lost as another song was played and the two royals moved across the floor. As that final song ended, Wrathion earned himself a kiss on the cheek and a hope that they would dance again soon.


	12. On the Twelfth Day of Christmas...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A prince is born.
> 
> Chapter Warnings: Mentions of Character Death

Seven years had passed since the Legion’s defeat. 

In that time, Anduin Wrynn had become king of Stormwind. He had married the Gilnean noblewoman, Mary Hewell. Wrathion, the Black Prince, had all but moved into the city, now constantly followed by six small whelps. Between the three of them and the other leaders of the world, Azeroth had entered a new era of peace and prosperity. Free trade was opened between the Alliance and Horde. The Army of Light still kept watch for any signs of the Legion’s return, but overall, things were calm, with one exception.

“Papa!”

Anduin was sitting at his desk, reading over some reports, when a small blond haired child ran into his legs. The king laughed, picking up his daugher, setting her on his lap.

“Yes, Tiffin?” he asked, working on redoing the hair ties that had come loose.

“Is today isn’t it?” The four-year old bounced excitedly on Anduin’s knee, making it hard for him to fix her hair.

“It is. You seem to be very excited.”

“Well, who wouldn’t be?” Another voice caught Anduin’s attention and he turned to the tall man that stood in the doorway. “It’s not everyday that the citizens of Stormwind get to greet their new prince for the first time is it now.”

“Mama says I get to wear my new dress too.” Tiffin beamed at the thought before adding, “And she says if I’m good I can hold him later.”

“Is that so? Well, you don’t get to hold him before I do.” Wrathion reached down, his long finger delicately touching the princess’ nose, causing her to giggle.

“Of course not, Uncle Thion,” Anduin teased, turning to give Wrathion a peck on the cheek. “How are the kids?”

Wrathion just shook his head. “They’re sleeping. Tiffin, would you like to come help me wake them?” 

Tiffin was all too eager to go see her ‘cousins’. After kiss for Anduin, she left, leaving the king alone once more. Anduin couldn’t help but to grin as he finished up his morning work. Even as he went to change into his regality, he was smiling, so overjoyed to have another child grace their kingdom.

“Anduin?” That was Mary calling.

The king had been sitting in their bedroom, lost in thought. In Mary’s arms was their son. She was still in her day clothes, so Anduin got up to take the infant.

“How was he?”

“Oh the same old,” Mary said as she went to go change. Despite the tradition, Mary had adamantly refused to have a lady’s maid, claiming that any outfit she needed help getting into was not worth wearing. “Thank you for taking care of him last night. I know it was my turn.”

“You need the rest.” Anduin rocked his son gently, watching as those sleepy eyes fluttered open and closed. He was already dressed, swaddled in a thick blanket that would help to protect him from the chilly spring day. Knowing the noise of the crowd that was to come, Anduin hoped it would not be too much on the tiny child.

Mary reappeared a few minutes later, elegantly dressed. She took some extra time to apply some makeup and put on her crown, then helped Anduin with his. “Well, shall we?”

Anduin returned the child to her arms, the went to hold the door. “I don’t know if Tiffin can wait any longer.”

With a laugh, the couple left their rooms, flanked by guards. Everyone was dressed in their ceremonial armor, the midday light reflecting across the halls. Anduin and Mary met up with Wrathion and Tiffin just outside the balcony where they would stand. As he did when Tiffin was born, Anduin stopped, and turned to Mary. Without a word, he gave his wife a kiss on the forehead, whispering his thanks for everything she had done for him. Their marriage may not have been overly filled with romantic love, but there was love none the less.

Both Mary and Wrathion moved to reassure him, after all Anduin’s nerves were not without reason. This was the same place his own mother had died when he was but an infant. He had grown up with his father regretting never getting to tell her that he loved her that one final time. So now, whenever they had to appear in this spot, Anduin always told those he loved how much they meant to him. Just in case.

In front of them, two lines of six drummers each stood. They readied themselves and after a word from their king, began to play. It was a steady beat, as the drummers went first onto the balcony. The musicians were followed by Wrathion and Tiffin, the whelps probably still sleeping. Andou could hear the crowd cheering for their adorable princess and, as always, Tiffin would bask in the attention, smiling and waving, the image of happiness.

Next came Anduin and Mary, the latter with the child in her arms. As they appeared, the crowd’s noise grew, soon louder than the drums that played. The two took their spot at the top of the balcony, just as the song finished. They waved. Well Anduin waved, his other arm around his wife as she stood firm, protecting the sleeping babe from the sounds.

Slowly, the noise grew down, and Anduin cleared his throat.

“Here me, people of Stormwind,” the king began. His voice was strong and clear. So many years of training had perfected it so even those far away could hear him. “Today we celebrate the birth of our second child.” Another cheer made Anduin pause. 

“Today, my wife, my daughter, and my dear friend, introduce to you a new life. We welcome you to celebrate with us as we introduce the heir of Stormwind’s throne, the Crown-Prince, Bolvar Varian Wrynn.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed them.


End file.
